Broadway Babe
by Eponinexoxo
Summary: Never in her life had Caroline Preston imagined she would be on Broadway. Now she faces the massive task of playing one of the main femal roles, the prestigious Éponine, but with the two hotties that play Marius and Enjolras distracting her, can she get it done?
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Never in my life had I been so nervous. This was it. My make it or break it moment. LaGuardia Arts, or more commonly known as the school from Fame!, was my best shot for a career. It would get more foot in the door and maybe lead to bigger and better things. Julliard? Broadway? Fame? I try my best to focus but I find myself shaking with worry. It's impossible to focus on anything with all these talented people surrounding me. Would I even stand a chance or-

"Next!"

Everything else disappears. I see the future before me, and at that moment, I knew that nothing would stop me. I hold my head up high, and with as much confidence as I can muster in my terrifying position, walk into the room. Four professors sit before me. Knowing that first impressions are everything, I smile and begin.

"Good morning. My name is Caroline Preston." I had always loved my last name. Preston. It always reminded me of prestigious, which is something every young starlet hopes to be. "I am 14 years old and I live in Rockford, Illinois. While I hope to someday work professionally on stage,I also am a dancer." I pause, attempting to read the faces, and more importantly, read their thoughts. Nothing. I see nothing.

" And why is it you choose to pursuit a career as an actress and not a dancer?" asks one of the teachers. I take her in. I'd like to say I have a way with people, that I can look at them for only a moment and can tell exactly what they want. Again, a blank face.

"I simply feel it would be more practical and beneficial," I explain, " As many of you know a dancer's career is very short. Usually a few years at most. While I do love to dance, I see it as more of a pastime than a career choice." I feel satisfied with my answer. I sound mature, sophisticated and refined, everything an actress should be. Or so I hope.

"Here at our school, we look for passion, not practicality. If you wish to come here for the purposes of fame and fortune only, you know where the door is." She gestures to the door that I only moments ago had entered in, and I know that she is not joking. This was not going as well as I had planned. Oh well, keep calm and carry on.

" Don't worry, I have plenty of passion. To prove it to you, I will perform my monologue now. I will be portraying a section of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream." I know that it is a difficult piece, and that I may very well fail, but it's worth a shot. Without really even thinking about it, I become Helena. "'Till I have no wife,I have nothing in France..."

I finish and look expectantly at the four people in front of me. One of them, the man on the left of the woman who seemed less than thrilled about me, smiled. I suppose I have to start somewhere. "And your song?" He asks.

I decided to go with the song "Popular" from Wicked. I did the difficult, serious Shakespeare, so now it was time to show them that I was able to play all kinds of roles. "Whenever I see someone less fortunate than I, and let's face it, who isn't? Less fortunate than I!..." I sing word for word, line for line, and I think I sung it as well as I possible could have.

What is said next, changes my life completely. "There is an audition being held for a new broadway musical Les Misérables. They wish to see children, teens and adults. I have sent a few of my students there to audition, and i think you should go as well. While you most likely would not get a part, the experience will be great. They are being held at The Broadway Theater right now. Go." He gives me another smile, along with a nod, and I just know that this was going to be a simply fabulous day.

I practically yell my thanks as I hurry towards the door, nearly skipping and leaping with joy. Broadway, here comes Caroline Preston.


	2. Chapter 2

I practically sprinted the few blocks to The Broadway Theater, and I couldn't help just taking a moment and gawking. Did I really belong here? Or was I just a stupid hopeful trying to make a name for herself? Either way, I had to try. I never do anything half assed, especially not auditions. I go full out. I either win big or lose big. I stare at my reflection outside the theater. I guess I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I was pretty. I'd straightened my blonde hair that spilled out over my shoulders. I had a nice figure from all of my hours spent in the studio. Although I am not super skinny like you would think if when you imagine a dancer, I am strong and toned, so I am very much satisfied. I have a clear complexion and bright blue green eyes. They has always been my favorite feature because they never change. I don't have to worry about gaining weight in my eyes, or have to remember to go to the salon and get them touched up. No, they were always perfect. Now, it is time to focus on the task at hand. I smooth down my skirt, make sure every hair is in place and make my way into the theater.

Immediately, I am over whelmed. My performing arts high school looked silly and small in comparison. I force myself to breath and stay calm. I get into the line with the other actors and actresses. I can't help but judge the people around me, as they are my competition. Sometimes, I look at life as I game I cannot lose. I simply refuse to. And while I would never play dirty to get ahead, I simply kill my competitors with what they already have. For example, the girl directly in front of me is bragging on her cell to God knows who about how she's going to be on Broadway. Whether she truly thinks she has a part in the bag, or she's just your typical brag, it does not matter to me. She's hurting herself. That extra pressure to succeed will most likely compel her to do exactly the opposite. I smile to myself, for in less than 30 seconds, I decided this girl's fate. Could she still succeed? Of course, everyone stands even a slight chance, but most likely, no.

When I finally reach the front of the line, I am practically beside myself with anxiety. "Name?" Asks the check in woman. She couldn't be much older than 20, but she seemed friendly enough.

"Caroline Preston. I was sent here by a teacher from LaGuardia Performing Arts." I say with a bit of pride. After all, there are not many others who can say that.

"Great, there are a few others around here that also attend there. Please fill out this form and give it to the panel when you go in for your audition. This is your number. Please pin it somewhere visible on your shirt. Best of luck."

I take the number and pin it onto the lower right part if my shirt. I again check my reflection to make sure nothing is out of place. I poof my hair a bit and decide that that is as good as I am going to look. I take out my phone and fiddle around with it, so I don't look so out of place. Everyone here seems to know one another. They are all appear as if they do this every weekend, and many greet each other as they would an old pal. My goodness, what have I gotten into.

It feels like years before it is finally my turn. This audition blows my little high school audition out of the water. I am on a real stage, with six, surely powerful people sitting below me. Judging me. Most likely, they already know if I am to be considered. I hand them the form I filled out, complete with my name, age, and prior theater experience. I practically cringed filling that out, as it wasn't very impressive.

The main judge appears to be the man in the middle. "Hello I am Cameron Murphy, and I will be directing this opera. It is in fact, an opera. There is no dialogue, so no monologue is necessary. Please sing a song of your choice. Then if we like you, you will be called back within the next two hours. Please begin."

I nod. An opera. Okay, that's a first. Never done opera, like ever. But, I am perfectly capable if doing it. At least, that is what I am telling myself. I take a deep breath and sing. "Whenever I see someone less fortunate than I, and let's face it, who isn't? Less fortunate than I!..." I finish and wait. They are murmuring to each other, but I can't hear what they are saying. I do manage to hear a few pieces though.

"Mezzo soprano. So young though. But in the book, only fifteen." What book? What are they talking about? "Deep consideration." I like the sound if that! "The age though. She may not be mature enough..."

Finally after what feels like an hour although it was most likely only 30 seconds, all of them look up. "Prepare to be called back within the next two hours. The next stage of our audition is to give you a song from the musical and see if you can sing it. Good job and best of luck." With that, I am dismissed.

I walk out in disbelief. Oh my God, I made it to the next stage of auditions. The next two hours whiz by. I warm up my voice, drink some water and have a light snack. Finally, they announce that those invited back could return. There were around 200-300 people crowded in here. "Okay people!" Shouted the director, "there are 50 roles in this, and about 250 of you. Do not hold anything back. We will begin calling you in groups based on characters that you are eligible for. For some of you, you could work for a variety of characters, for others it could mean only one. Do not think that one is better than the other because you do not know who the characters are!" He finishes then calls up the first group. They appear to all be middle aged men. Obviously I was not in that group.

I began to get more and more anxious, as group after group was called. Young girls, young boys, old people, everyone it felt like. Finally my name was called along with about twenty something others. We were handed the music to a song entitled "On My Own". Well that's upbeat. We were given five minutes to look over it and interpret it. I tried my best to capture the sadness, but that's what every other girl was doing. Then it clicked. The character singing this song was crazy! She's pretending she's with someone she's not. She's pretending. She talks to herself, and is obviously slightly off. I need to not only portray sadness, but also a slight edge of craziness. I now had my advantage. I was going to kill it. I sang my heart out at my turn. I knew that I made a good impression, I just knew it! They said that they would inform us within a week, so fingers crossed! Would I get it? Let's hope so.

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	3. Chapter 3

It has been five days since my audition for both LaGuardia and Broadway. I'm trying not to get my hopes too high for either, because who wants to get crushed? Now, I am just hanging out with friends, when I hear my phone ringing. Excitedly, I check the number, hoping it isn't my mom or a telemarketer. I gasp when I see that it is a New York area code! Calm down, I tell myself. They could most likely be calling to tell me I did not make it. Shaking, I tap the answer icon. "Hello" I say, trying to sound natural, as if I get calls that are possibly life changing everyday. But I sound awkward. My voice is an octave higher than usual, so they are probably wondering why Minnie Mouse just answered my cell.

"Is this Miss Caroline Preston?" Asks the familiar voice of Cameron Murphy. He sounds neutral, neither happy nor apologetic. I take this as a bad sign, knowing that a large part if his profession is being the bearer of bad news.

"Yes, yes it is!" I respond in my Minnie Mouse voice. I can feel the blush in my cheeks, but am thankful that he can't see.

"As you know, you auditioned for a very prestigious role, the role of Éponine, one of the main female leads in the musical Les Misérables. After a deep amount of consideration, we have selected you." He pauses, letting me react.

"Really?" Really, Caroline, he tells you that you are going to be on Broadway and that's how you respond? I mentally smack myself. Then it hits me. I'm going to be on Broadway! Now, being a dancer, I am actually very capable of doing a backflip. I am about two seconds away from doing one when I snap back into reality. "Thank you! Oh my gosh, thank you! That's amazing." Not much of an improvement over my first response, but at least it's something. I am literally at a loss for words, and let me tell you, I am never at a loss for words. I am practically in tears.

He simply laughs at my near hysterics. "You should have seen the way the actress who will be portraying the character of Cosette reacted. She dropped the phone, and I feared she had fainted or had a heart attack. That would have made my job much more difficult you know."

At this point, I am not really listening. I am Éponine. Me. Some little high schooler, well not yet even, on Broadway. Caroline Preston, Éponine. God, I love it, I could say it all day long.

"Obviously, we will need to speak to your parents, as you are under 18. There are going to many changes in your life as of now. The first one will be moving to New York. We begin rehearsals next week, no exceptions. You will need a tutor because you will need to keep up with your studies. we will set you up with a vocal and acting coach, in addition to the training you will receive during rehearsals. You have a lot of work to do in a short amount of time. We expect a lot out of you, and if you cannot do it, you saw the amount of girls at the auditions who can. Got it?"

Woah. This was a lot to absorb. I'm moving. I'm on Broadway! What if I fail? I refuse to. Can I handle this? Hell yeah I can! I am going to be amazing, because I simply will allow anything less. "Yes, yes I do!" I reply with confidence. " You will not be let down!"

"Fantastic. We will be in touch soon. See you in New York in a week. And again, congratulations." With that, the conversation is over, and my life truly begins.

I practically float to the living room, where my friends are. It's a typical summer day for us soon to be high schoolers. Swimming, food, gossiping for the girls, video games for the guys, repeat. The girls all look up expectantly, seeing my excitement. The guys are so into their video games though, that I may as well be invisible. Still, I want them to hear my news too. I step in front of the television, blocking their view of their precious games. "Guess what you are looking at?" I ask excitedly.

"Not my video game, that's for sure!" Answers my best guy friend, Riley. We've been close friends since 6th grade, he's practically my brother.

"As if you mind!" I retort. I'm still in my bikini from swimming, so I know I'm right. That gets a laugh from the group. "Actually, the correct answer is a soon to be Broadway star!" I let that sink in for a sec. The girls all immediately start to squeal and ask a million questions.

I receive a chorus of questions ranging from serious, like "Are you moving to New York?" To the unrealistic like "Are you going to meet Blake Lively?"

I basically just tell them what I know, everything from the audition process to the phone call I just received. After all the excitement settles down, reality really sinks in. Can I really leave my friends? They are all practically my family. Our close knit group of six is my chosen family, and not seeing them for months is going to be torture, but it will be worth it. At least that's what I am telling myself. I will find out soon enough, because next week, I'm off to New York.

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	4. Chapter 4

I stumble off the plane, nearly crash into the wall and really piss off the guy in front of me. It's not my fault that I'm not a morning person. We can't all be little miss sunshine when we wake up at four am. Especially without any caffeine. It's basically a miracle that I'm even awake right now, so that guy has to chill. Still, his glare of annoyance still sticks in my mind as I walk through the terminal. I don't like when people don't like me. I'm used to being liked, and I'm also used to getting what I want. I guess you could say I'm spoiled, but what only child isn't? It's the only child curse. I shrug off the annoying people. After all, they aren't worth a second of my time. I should be celebrating! I'm in New York! Tomorrow, we start rehearsals, and I'm practically beside myself with both excitement and worry. I need to nail my part. Anything less is absolutely unacceptable. Most people say perfection isn't achievable. I say work harder. Anything is achievable if you work harder than the person standing next you. If that means driving myself on the verge of insanity to be perfect, so be it.

After a short cab ride, my mother and I arrive at our new apartment. My father has to keep up business in Chicago, so I won't be seeing him for a while. Although honestly, I think I will miss my friends more. Even if they can be annoying sometimes, I love each and every one of them to the moon and back. I will keep up with them though, no matter what it takes. On the plus side, our apartment is lovely. It is a nice sized two bedroom, two bath with a walk in closet for me. Score.  
I haven't seen anyone else on our floor yet, but it appears that someone on the right of us is either moving in or out. I step out into the hallway to do a little snooping being the nosy girl I am, and run right into something, or rather, someone. A very attractive someone. I don't even notice that I am on the ground until he extends his hand to help me up. "I am so sorry! I didn't see you there."  
"No worries." I say, hoping I have nothing in my teeth when I smile. I suddenly feel self conscious about my casual travel outfit of yoga pants and a hoodie. He is obviously in casual clothes too, but somehow he still manages to look insanely cute. He looks older though, but probably a high schooler. At least I hope so. "Looks like I'm going to be your neighbor."  
"Yeah! I'm pumped to be back in New York, I've been waiting to go back all summer." He says, his excitement obvious. How cute.  
"Do you go to school here? I ask, hoping I sound okay. My Minnie Mouse voice seems to appear at the most inconvenient of times, like around guys I find attractive.  
"Yes and no. I've gone to LaGuardia Performing Arts School, if you've heard of that, since I was a freshman. I would be finishing up my senior year there this year, but I will be working, so I am figuring that out right now."  
"I auditioned there! I got in, but I won't be going until next year. I am going to be in a musical, so that's going to be taking up all of my time." I explain, hoping I don't sound like I'm bragging. That's odd, I usually don't mind if I sound like a bragger, but I guess that doesn't apply here.  
"Really? You must be really excited about that! I'm also putting school on hold for a stage acting job. I doubt we are in the same one, but what's the name of yours?It really would be something if we happened to be working together." He seems genuinely excited at the possibility of being in the same musical as me.  
I try not to get my hopes up. "It's called Le-"  
"Caroline Marie Preston, if you don't get in here right now your bedroom furniture is going to end up on the patio!" Interrupts my mother. It could not be a worse mom moment. Seriously? Oh well, I will be talking to him soon, I will be making sure of that.  
He just laughs, much to my annoyance. "Looks like you should be getting going. I"ll see you around. And again, my apologies for nearly running you over." With that, he walks into his own apartment before I realize I didn't even get his name. I stay in the hallway for a moment, wondering if I should quick try to yell to ask him his name. I shove that thought back down just as fast as it came up. I don't yell for guys, or chase after them. Just, no. What was I thinking? I guess it's just the lack of caffeine going to my head. I'm insanely curious about what musical he's in though. It wouldn't happen to be Les Misérables would it? As much as I hope so, that would just be too good to be true.

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**Sorry for such a short chapter, but I promise a long exciting one tomorrow! Please review I'm dying to know your thoughts and how I can improve this. if you enjoyed follow, and thanks for reading! **


	5. Chapter 5

I force myself out of bed at the awful hour of 6:00 am. We start rehearsal at 8:00, and first impressions are everything. I drag myself to the bathroom, shower and pick out my outfit. It's a fairly chilly day for September, only being in the sixties. Still, I refuse to let go of summer and choose a summer dress. It isn't anything too special, it's a hot pink short dress with a bow at the waist. I pair it with a pair of high heeled white wedges. I give it a solid once over and approve. It's classy, but I don't look like a little teenager. Most if the cast will probably be older than me, so I want to make sure I don't look like I'm someone's little sister. My hair is shiny and bright from my trip to the salon earlier this week. It's in casual waves, so I don't look too overdone. I add one more coat of mascara to my curled eyelashes and step back for a better view. I like what I see. Satisfied, I grab my white handbag and make my way out of the apartment.

The theater we will be rehearsing at is only a block or two away from the apartment, so it's an easy walk. I check the time on my phone. It's 7:58, so I'm just about perfect. I know I shouldn't be nervous, I mean I already have the part. Still, I get the familiar feeling of worry that I can never quite seem to get rid of. I'm never entirely confident in myself. No matter how well I do, no matter how many people I surpass, there's always a voice in the back if my head telling me I will fail. That I will never be good enough. Right now, I have to push those thoughts away and be confident confident confident. I am a firm believer that confidence is the key to success in life. Obviously, I don't always feel confident. Like right now, but since I don't have it, I fake it. I put a smile on my face, hold my chin up just a little bit higher and push open the door to the theater.

"Hello hello!" I am greeted by a chirpy woman with a clipboard. "I'm Sandra, one of the coordinators. It's great to have you here." She seems to be genuinely kind, so I finally have a real smile, not my forced one from a moment ago. Hopefully, this will help put me more at ease.

"Caroline Preston" I respond, shaking her hand. I take the cast list and rehearsal schedule she offers me, scanning it as I casually check out the rest of the cast. There are many different ages, although I definitely appear to be one of the youngest. The only few I see younger than me are at the oldest ten. They are two young girls, one with light blonde hair and the other with dark brown, making them completely contrast from the other. Beside them is a young boy, and they all seem to be getting along nicely. It's so easy to be little. They don't judge, glare or exclude. Everyone's an equal. Sometimes I wish I could be a little kid again, completely oblivious to the real world. I'm about to pull out my phone, which I usually do when I don't know anyone or feel awkward, when someone catches my eye. No. Effing. Way. Oh it's definitely him. I would probably recognize that brown hair and those green eyes anywhere. Surprisingly, he's standing beside an equally attractive guy. Last night, if you had asked me, I'd say my neighbor who's name I still don't know was the cutest guy I know, but this new guy might take the award. He has dirty blonde curls with bright blue eyes. I can see why they would choose him for theater, he's very striking and unique. It's easy to get lost in a crowd onstage surrounded by talented people, but something tells me he won't have that problem. I'm not sure if I should go over there and talk to them or not, as they seem to know each other already. They are talking and laughing like its nothing out if the ordinary. Or they might not know each other at all. With guys, it's nearly impossible to tell. Before I can change my mind, I make my way over to where the two if them are standing.

"Hey! I think I know you!" I say as casually as I can to my neighbor, bumping his arm as I say so. This obviously takes him by surprise, but thank God he does recognize me. I couldn't imagine anything more embarrassing then having him just stare at me wondering who the heck I was.  
"Hey yourself. Wow, we really are going to be working together. It sure is a small world." He says, smiling.  
"And how do you to know each other?" Asks the guy he is with, obviously annoyed at being the only one out if the know. I can't lie, I'd probably feel the same way.  
"Neighbors actually." I respond, looking him right in the eye. For some reason this seems to take him aback, though God knows why. I suppose I can be intimidating, but that's usually only when I try to be. "Although I don't think that I caught your name." I say, turning back to my neighbor.  
"I'm Michael." He says easily. He always seems to be so effortlessly casual.  
"And I'm David." Cuts in his friend, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. My, someone likes attention. At the same time, I can't help but feel like I have met the boy version of myself. "And yourself?"  
"Caroline." I say confidently, again holding his gaze. I can't figure this guy out. He seems to like being the center of attention, and I can practically see his confidence. I can't help but be slightly impressed by this, as that is what I strive to be like. Before I can come to any more conclusions, the voice of our director Cameron Murphy kills my train of thought.  
"Please have a seat." He commands us from the stage. "Welcome, and congratulations. Every single one of you are extremely important, and have been chosen out of hundreds of others. If you are not yet familiar with the lovely Les Misérables, I encourage you to do a little reading. Or google it, whichever suits you best." I make a mental note to hit up Barnes and Noble tonight on my way home. "As of today, this is the center of your life. Every day Monday through Saturday, you are expected to be here from 8:00 until 4:00. On Sundays you will be here from noon until 4:00. Anything less will not be permitted. Now, allow me to give you a basic run through of the musical. It begins with Jean Valjean, a criminal finally put on parole after 19 years of imprisonment." What the hell did this guy do? "He breaks parole to escape from Javert, who swears to bring him to justice. Fast forward, he is now mayor and runs a factory, where a woman named Fantine is working, trying to support her child Cosette, who lives with the Thenardiérs and their child Éponine. When she is fired, she becomes a prostitute, and then dies." How exactly are we going to sing about this? It sounds so absurd. "The Thenardiérs are awful to Cosette, and Jean Valjean rescues her. Fast forward again, the Thenardiérs have lost all of their money and live on the streets. Cosette and Jean Valjean are wealthy, but are still wary of Javert. Éponine, poor and abused, is forced to commit crimes with her father and his gang the Patron-Minette. The schoolboys are planning a revolution, Enjolras being their fearless leader. Among the revolutionaries is Marius Pontmercy, with whom Éponine is hopelessly in love with. Marius falls in love with Cosette. The revolution begins, and it just goes on and on from there. You will all catch on quickly. I will now pass out the script, although there is no dialogue, so it is only the songs. They are all there in order, along with the characters in each number. Please take a few moments to look over your various parts." This is just amazing. I quickly rifle through all of the songs. I am in a ton if them. I have a solo, duo, trio, an entire production. How can I do all this? I am so in over my head. Can I really handle this? I can feel myself breathing heavily, worrying. I need to get a hold of myself. I get up and grab a bottle of water from my bag, taking deep breaths between sips. I cannot fall apart now, not after I have worked so terribly hard. Whatever is expected of me, I will do. No. What ever is expected of me, I will do ten times over. Whatever it takes, I will go above and beyond.  
I look over my songs again, most of which include Marius. Who is playing Marius? I need to know right now. Oh please don't let him be ugly, or creepy or anything like that. Wait a sec, oh my God I die? It looks like I get shot at the barricade and die. A Little Fall of Rain. I knew this wasn't a happy musical, but still, ouch. Looking through the script though, it appears that almost everyone dies, so at least I'm not alone. "So, what do you think?" Asks a voice behind me, nearly giving me a heart attack. I was so deep in thought that I had not even noticed that Michael had appeared beside me, along with oh so friendly David.  
"I think it looks like a challenge." I say, which isn't exactly a lie. Just an understatement, a major, major understatement.  
"Who are you playing?" Asks David, looking curious. "What characters are there that are your age?"  
"I'm Éponine." I reply firmly. It's not like I'm four like he's treating me for God's sake. He seems to be the same age as Michael, so that would only make him a few years older than me.  
David's eyebrows shoot up. "That's amazing. You can sing these songs? How old are you?"  
I know that my songs are difficult, but I can't help but be slightly offended. "Yes, yes I can sing these songs. And I'm fourteen."  
"Wow that's very impressive." He replies, doing his staring thing again. He really has gorgeous eyes, so I don't even mind.  
"Who are you two?" I ask, hoping one of them is Marius. Now that would just make my day.  
"Enjolras" David says. Bummer, we would be really cute together. We have the whole blonde thing going for us. I have to remind myself that Marius actually does not like Éponine, and she is in fact the queen of the friendzone.  
"I'm Marius, so it looks like we will be spending quite a bit of time together." I have to suppress my glee when Michael tells me this. I try too keep my expression somewhat neutral. Thankfully, I do not have to think of anything witty to say, as we are interrupted.  
"Alright people, that's enough socializing! It's time to get to work!"

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	6. Chapter 6

By four o'clock when we end, I'm a complete and total mess. On the outside, I'm as calm and collected as I can be. On the inside, I'm having a panic attack. While the first day went fairly smoothly, no major disasters, I feel completely over my head. Everyone around me seems professional, while I constantly feel like I'm waiting for someone to tell me what to do. Even the little ten year olds seem to have more of a clue than I do. I toss my script into my purse, knowing I'm going to be having many long nights. I'm mentally going through my soon to be daily schedule in my head. Wake up at six, be at rehearsal by eight, end at four, dance and exercise until 5:30, have some dinner if there's time, work with my tutor until ten, shower, keep up with my social life in Chicago, and try to get a few hours of sleep before I do it all over again. Most kids my age can barely manage highschool and maybe a sport or two, while I'm keeping up with my grades, competitive dance and being on a Broadway musical. I've got to keep up though, if not, there's a line of girls who would give anything to have my role. I refuse to let that happen.

"Are you okay Caroline? You went a little pale." Michael strolls over, looking concerned.

"Fine. Just thinking." And worrying, worrying a lot. I honestly don't know how much I can manage. I'm going to have to push myself to my limits, but in the back if my mind, I know something's going to have to give. I start to leave, and Michael falls into step beside me, chatting up a storm. "Such a great story isn't it? Terribly sad, but such amazing messages, don't you think?" His voice brings me back to reality, and it takes me a moment to realize what he's talking about.

"Yeah, yeah it's really cute. I mean I die, but you know, whatever." I say casually. At least I get an awesome song to die too, so I'm not totally pointless

"At least you get to die in my arms!" Michael jokes. I laugh a little, and I can feel myself relaxing slightly. We walk past the book store, and I nearly run over a few people trying to get inside. People here in New York are even crabbier and less helpful than the people in Chicago. I honestly didn't even think that was possible. "What are you doing?" Michael asks once we are safely inside the book store.

"I want to read the book." I say, scanning the rows of books before me. "Excuse me?" I ask the cashier at the front. "I'm looking for the book Les Misérables by Victor Hugo." She carelessly points to the back of the store, not even looking up from her phone. Michael walks be me as I search for the book. "I see it!" I nearly run over to where it is. "Oh my God!"

"What is it? What's wrong?" Michael asks, running to my side.

"It is 1400 pages long. 1400 freaking pages. I don't have time to read this!" I pick it up again and nearly drop it. The book is practically a brick.

"Let me see," Michael commands, holding out his hand. I give it to him while I try to figure out if I can cram it into my schedule. Maybe I could convince my tutor to let me read this for my English credits. After all, it is long and advanced, but knowing my tutor, a terrifying old lady with an Irish accent, it will be a no. Michael continues to flip through it, while I just decide to give in and buy it. He starts laughing for some reason.

"What could you possibly be laughing at?" After all, it seems like a pretty depressing book. Like almost everyone dies.

"Look at this! You aren't going to believe it. Éponine and Marius are neighbors in the book!" He points to a passage on the page, and he's right.

"That is really weird. I guess it was meant to be." It actually kind of freaks me out a bit. I'm not really superstitious, but this is way too much of a coincidence. I have the attentive cashier ring me up, while Michael continues to rattle on. He talks more than most girls I know, but it's cute and I don't mind the company. I have to get going though, so we part ways and I head to the dance studio. My mom is a completely crazy stage mom, so that means I will be dancing everyday, just like at home. Not to mention my teachers, although they are thrilled for me, they will probably kill me if I come back to class and am not able to touch my toes. Sometimes I wish I could spend more time with my friends, or just relax a little. I never seem to get any alone time, and sometimes the pressure is just too much. I take a lot of ballet, and ballet is perfection. You're doing it right, or you're doing it wrong. My ballet teacher says that he always expects two things from us: effort and perfection. I've been killing myself to be as good as I can since I could walk, but sometimes I wish I could just take a break. From the words of the fabulous Ferris Bueller, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around every once in a while, you could miss it." Sometimes, I feel like I'm missing my life. Am I really doing what I want? Or what my parents want? They put tons of pressure on me, sometimes I feel like I just can't handle it. I know that everyone has a breaking point. I sometimes wonder if I will ever hit mine, wherever it is, because I have a feeling that if I do, it will not be a pretty sight. I push those thought out of sight as I warm up, losing myself in the music.

"Sorry!" I call as I shove by a woman in front of me, sprinting to get home. I was supposed to be back 20 minutes ago for tutoring.

"Caroline, are you taking your education seriously?" I'm greeted by my always pissed off old tutor. I fight the urge to roll my eyes like any teenager would. I've known that I want to go to Juilliard since I was three, and I don't need to know the Pythagorean Theorem to get there. I sit in my center splits as we go over endless amounts of history and science, ignoring her raised eyebrows. I'm constantly going to need to multitask, so I might as well get used to it now. I try not to nod off as she explains for the millionth time Newton's third law of motion. "Okay, that's all for tonight." She closes the books and I let out a sigh of relief, for once not caring if I seem rude. I get ready for bed, sending a quick goodnight text to my friends, promising to do a mass video chat as soon as I can. After the exhausting day, I'm asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

I throw my arm at my alarm clock, effectively knocking over my lamp. Seriously? What a fab start to my day. I ignore my desperate desire to go back to bed. After an hour or so I grab my coffee, Lord knows I'm going to needs gallons of it to keep me awake the next few months, and head out the door. I glance at my phone, and smile at the texts from my friends. It almost hurts how much I miss them. Our close knit group is my family, and I feel completely lost without them.  
The day starts off more or less like the last, with the exception of the introductions. Not unlike yesterday, I butcher One Day More, which we spend a good two hours on. It's by far the most complex song, all of the different characters singing over each other, not to mention the level of difficulty and vocal range. We move on to practice the first scene, and those of us not in it are shooed off to work on our various parts. I slide down into the splits and pull out my script, going over and over my songs.  
"What are you doing?" I turn to see David staring at me like I've grown an extra head.

"I'm going over my lines and stretching." I respond, not even looking up.

"Isn't that painful?"

I look up now, over my elevated over split. "Yes, but 90% of dance is looking like you aren't in pain. I've been doing this for twenty minutes, so I have five minutes more. And I'm about ready to chop both of my legs off." I respond cheerily.

"God, that looks awful. Do you have to do that, or do you choose too?" David asks, looking curious. I guess it isn't everyday you see some girl stretching while going over lines, but I wouldn't know.

"Well, at my studio at home we hold our over splits for twenty five minutes minimum. If anyone complains or cries, we add five minutes." I explain. It's basically second nature to me, so I'm used to it.

He sits next to me, looking pretty shocked. I guess a non dancer would find it to be pretty torturous. "Isn't that like child abuse. You get punished for being in pain?"

"You see, if we were on stage, we wouldn't cry, so why would we cry during practice?" To me, it makes sense. It has been drilled into my head that being in pain is a really a good thing. It means I'm pushing myself, I'm getting better.

"That's intense. How are you holding up? You know, the whole transition to New York."

"Everything's just really new to me. I don't know what I'm doing!" I stammer out, shocking myself. Usually, if I'm asked how I'm doing at something I respond with a fine, never really telling the truth. "Did I just say that out loud?" Could I be any less articulate? I open my mouth to say something slightly more intelligent, but I will probably just say something even dumber, so I decide to say nothing.

"This is my first professional show too, so I know how you feel. It's tough, but I know it's going to be great." I can tell that he means what he says. He just lights up, and he's obviously super excited about this show. Don't get me wrong, I am too, I'm just as terrified as I am excited. My phone goes off, the twenty five minutes is up.

"Thank you Jesus!" I slowly slide out of my splits, shaking my legs out as I go.

"I think they want us to start practicing the second act, so we should probably get up there." I stand to follow him, take two steps, and my legs go out from under me.

"Damn!" I fall flat onto my face, barely able to get my hands out in time. My only luck is that I'm not wearing a skirt or dress, so I didn't flash my panties at everyone. Instead of helping me up, David just laughs.

"Graceful!" He jokes, chuckling. My face is bright red I'm sure. Did I really just fall? Really? I've been taking ballet since I could toddle and I can't even take two steps.

I pull myself to my feet, trying to regain my composure but totally failing. David's laughing even harder now, probably at my massive fail and even bigger fail of trying to be cool about it. I can't help it, I laugh too. It feels fantastic to laugh, like really laugh. I realize it's the first time since I've laughed since I arrived in New York.

"Thanks for helping me up! How rude, didn't anyone ever tell you that you should help girls when they fall!" I joke.

"What are you talking about? I'm a perfect gentleman! Would you like assistance getting onto the stage? It is a whole five steps to get up, very very difficult." He grins and I can't help but smile back at him. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.


End file.
